


pinch me, you’re so fine I must be dreaming

by orphan_account



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Getting Together, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Not Beta Read, Prompt Fill, not edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 08:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19247383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Prompt from anon: "there!! is not!! a single!! love potion fic!! i wish you’d write a love bug/potion au where brian falls madly in love and pat is Just Dying the whole time!!"





	pinch me, you’re so fine I must be dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> This is not edited at all and probably makes no sense and the ending's a bit rushed and weird because the ac's out and it's 90 in the house, so my brian's mush! :D
> 
> cheesy pickup lines courtesy [here](http://pun.me/pages/cheesy-pick-up-lines.php)

“This is homophobia.”

Brian only smiles wider and tightens his grip on Pat’s hand. God, what he would give to have this happen in literally any other situation. Literally any other situation. Because this is God’s cruel joke, have Pat fall in love with his coworker and have said coworker seem to reciprocate it complete with hearts for eyes and a softer smile and a need for physical contact. It isn’t  _ fair _ . 

“I think it’s the opposite, Pat Gill,” Brian purrs, his other hand snaking its way under the table again. Pat smacks it, and Brian retracts it without a word, simply winking. They’re at  _ Denny’s  _ at two in the afternoon, for Christ’s sake, this has to be illegal. 

“You can stop now,” Pat says, trying to put all the pain he is currently feeling into his voice. As if that’ll break Brian out of whatever the  _ hell  _ is happening with him. “Funny joke. Joke’s over.”

Brian tilts his head, smile flickering. “You think I’m joking? Pat, dude, how could I not want to make out with you right now?”

Pat makes a pained noise and forces down the incoming blush, because it’s two on a Thursday and it wasn’t supposed to go like this, if it was even going to happen at all. Which it eventually was. Eventually. Once Pat stopped believing this work crush couldn’t be more. Probably in, like, twenty years when he’s on his deathbed and Brian can’t hate him.

“Seriously, did Simone put you up to this?” he asks, pulling on his collar. 

It’s hot. Brian’s hot, fuck, it’s just hot. He hasn’t really torn his gaze away from Pat’s face since they ordered, looking at him with eyes filled with a love that Pat’s certain can’t be real. If it was, it would’ve happened long before this. Brian’s spontaneous like that. Loud. He would’ve blurted it out almost immediately, gone to panic and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the day.

“Simone didn’t do shit,” Brian answers, and he sounds so honest it hurts. “I’ve been working myself up to this for a while. Just, uh.” He laughs, almost nervously, a tint of red hitting his cheeks for the first time. It’s almost shocking how adorable it is, but nothing could ever be shocking about him anymore. “I just felt like it had to be today, you know?”

“I  _ don’t  _ know,” Pat says. He stares at his soda, certainly flat by now. He could’ve sworn Denny’s had faster service than this. “I’m not exactly the Love Guru here, Bri.”

“And I don’t want you to be,” Brian says, smile somehow going softer, gentler, more open, and it’s absolutely breathtaking. Pat forgets to breathe. “I like you for you, Pat Gill. Even if you’re the least romantic man in New York.”

Pat lets out a wheeze and nods. “Cool. Appreciate it.”

The waiter shows up with their food and winks, and Pat lets the blush take hold just for a moment. But that’s all Brian needs because he brings Pat’s hand up to his mouth and brushes his lips across his knuckles. And Pat forgets to breathe again.

-

At nine in the morning, Brian frowned down at his coffee and hesitantly had a second sip. Pat was on his way in, then, and nodded a good morning, and Brian had smiled back, and it was fine. 

At ten in the morning, Brian had texted Pat. And Pat had stared down at his phone in confusion. 

At eleven, Brian went to a meeting and Pat started on a new script. Comparing Zelda’s various art styles to Picasso’s various phases, probably won’t get past a page or two. Might need to go back to the Shrek thing he started on the plane back from E3.

At noon, Brian sidled up beside Pat, closer than usual, his chin resting on Pat’s shoulder. 

“Down for lunch?” he had asked, voice just barely above a whisper, something just this side of  _ off  _ about it. 

Pat had checked his phone, almost had a heart attack at Brian’s ten a.m. text, and nodded. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Lemme finish this paragraph.”

Brian nodded, not moving away one bit. “Looking good, Pat.”

“Thanks. I’m, uh. I think I might do Shrek, actually.”

“Not what I’m talking about, Patrick.”

At one, Brian dragged Pat down the stairs and out the door and towards the Denny’s a few blocks away. He had a friend there, or something. Pat didn’t know. Doesn’t know, still. He was too focused on the feeling of Brian’s hand on his, brushing. Shoulders bumping together. Arm looping around Pat’s and Brian stepping closer and smiling up at him brightly as Pat stopped mid-step and stared down at him.

-

_ ‘Brians weird help’ _

Pat waits for Simone’s reply, watching the three little dots impatiently. He can only hide in this bathroom for so long before Brian comes in. Or texts him, and Pat will have another panic attack if he gets another pickup line.

**_‘You okay?’_** is the reply, and, honestly, bless Simone.

_ ‘He’s flirting and keeps trying to make out with me and its dennys and did you fucking do this’ _

**_‘of course didn’t!!! i’m not that evil!’_ **

_ ‘then whyyyyyyyy’ _

**_‘dunno. isn’t this a good thing?’_ **

_ ‘not when i’m panicking!!!!!!!!!!’ _

It’s slower this time for her to respond, and, while he’s waiting, he gets a text from Brian, a simple picture of Zuko being adorable. And it’s adorable, because Zuko’s adorable and Pat’s long thought of anything Brian-adjacent as adorable and perfect and fucking batshit. Today is leaning towards batshit.

**_‘deep breaths, patrick. it’s fine. i can tell him to lay off when you get back.’_ **

Pat nods, remembers Simone isn’t there with him, and sends a couple of thumbs-up emojis. She sends one back herself along with the wink emoji and one with a bunch of little cartoon hearts over its head. 

When Pat finishes wiping his panic tears and making himself presentable, he heads back out to the restaurant, and Brian perks up almost immediately upon seeing him. 

“You okay?” he asks. “You took a while in there.”

Pat makes a show of looking sick, wincing and putting a hand over his tummy region. “Yeah. Uh, coffee’s disagreeing with me today. New blend, I think.”

Brian nods. “Yeah. Coffee was weird today. Whoever made it should, like, not. Seriously, onion?”

Pat blinks and reminds himself to check out the coffee back at the office once Brian’s back to working on whatever it is he does when he’s not doing everything else for the office. Pat didn’t have coffee today, actually, the first time in months he brought his own in (roommate got a new coffeemaker from his girlfriend for their anniversary and it’s easily the best thing that’s happened to their fragile roommate relationship in months). 

He grabs his jacket off of the back of his chair and shrugs it on. He pulls his wallet out, because fuck if he’s going to let Brian pay for this, even if he’s, like, poisoned. Especially if he’s poisoned. 

“Who made coffee today, anyway?” he asks as they head back up front to pay. “Wasn’t Simone again, was it?”

Brian winkles his face up and shakes his head. “Tara banned her. I think it was Jenna, maybe? One of the interns? I don’t know, dude, you know I get there late.”

“You need your beauty sleep, I know,” Pat snorts, and Brian almost glows at that. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” he asks, looking up at Pat through his eyelashes, and Pat’s soul breaks free from his body and floats away into the ventilation system.

“Uh,” he astutely says. “Yeah. Gorgeous.”

Brian beams and presses himself close to Pat’s side again, takes his arm again as Pat pays with shaking hands, lightly leans his head against Pat’s arm as they walk back to the office. 

-

At three, Simone calls Brian into “her office” (one of the call rooms) to talk about “video production and other very important video things” (ask him to stop doing whatever he’s doing before Pat dies). Pat takes the opportunity to go into the break room and snoop around. And snoop he does, digging around in the cupboard above the coffee maker and looking for anything that is weird. Like a bottle of arsenic, or some of those funky mushrooms Pat totally hasn’t experienced before. 

Or a bright pink, glittery bag of something labelled in a language Pat doesn’t know. Or that. 

He frowns and pulls the bag down from the cupboard, turning it over in his hands. Maybe there’s an English translation on the back like those fancy Italian coffees his old roommate used to bring home, but, no. Nothing. The bag looks like a regular bag of grounds. Same shape, same weight, same smell. 

He jumps as Simone pokes her head in, almost dropping the bag to the floor. 

“He said he’ll calm down,” she says. She smiles at the bag in his hands. “Like the new stuff? Picked it up this morning at this new place down the street from my complex.”

He winces. “Yeah, I’m actually allergic to this blend. Sorry.”

Her eyes widen and she skitters into the room, yoinking the bag away and inspecting the back like she can read it. 

“Holy shit, I didn’t know you were allergic to nutmeg.”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, carefully trying not to sound like he’s lying through his teeth. “Real bad. I thought you knew.”

“Sorry, man,” she says. “I’ll toss it. God, why didn’t Tara leave me the medical sheets?”

Pat didn’t know Tara had medical sheets. Which is probably for the best. 

He offers her a small smile. “Thanks. For, uh, Brian. And the coffee.”

She waves a hand. “It’s what bosses are for, Pattie.”

“And friends?”

“Who said anything about friendship? This is a professional gaming environment, Mister Gill.”

He nods solemnly. “Of course, ma’am.”

She cracks a smile and elbows him right in the ribs just a bit too hard. “Lemme know if anything else is up, ‘kay?”

He gives her a thumbs-up, and she tucks the coffee under an arm and stalks back to “her office”. Pat makes sure no one’s looking before he takes the pot of coffee and empties it into the sink. It’s three in the afternoon, anyway, no one needs coffee this late. 

-

Brian texts him a few lines overnight. Shitty ones, mostly. Probably stolen from his roommates, or from cheesy websites. 

**_‘You spend so much time in my mind, I should charge you rent.’_** comes in at six. 

**_‘I'm no photographer, but I can picture us together.’_** comes in at nine, and Pat has to focus to keep the camera from picking up on his blush. 

**_‘If I were a cat I'd spend all 9 lives with you.’_ ** comes in at nine-thirty.

Once the stream wraps up and Pat’s falling into bed in his sweatpants and he’s pulling Charlie away from the foot of the bed because he doesn’t want to kick him again, Pat finally replies. 

_ ‘i thought you were going to stop’ _

**_‘Do you want me to stop?’_ **

Pat bites the inside of his cheek and sighs out his nose, knowing the answer. He’s a weak man. 

_ ‘At elast wait until you arent poisoned’ _

He knows Brian’s typing, but he turns his phone off and flips onto his side so he doesn’t have to see the screen light up. 

-

At nine in the morning, Brian catches Pat in the entrance to the building, and he looks as awful as the most beautiful man in the world can get. Circles under his eyes, hair messed up in a way that doesn’t look like he tried to do it, shirt wrinkled. He avoids Pat’s eyes as he grabs his arm and guides him away from everyone else in the lobby and towards a corner. 

“Hey, uh,” he says, voice rough. Sounds tired, and it makes sense. Pat woke up to five pickup lines and a singular  _ ‘I’m sorry’ _ sent an hour ago. “I’m sorry. About yesterday. I- I don’t know what  _ happened _ . And, uh.”

Pat gently pulls his arm away and sighs. “You were sick, Bri. It’s fine.”

Brian scowls and pushes some hair out of his face, pushes it back again as it stubbornly refuses to stay put. “I made you uncomfortable, Pat. Simone had to-”

“I told you I was into it, dude.”

“You shouldn’t have been! I was an asshole!”

“I have a thing for assholes,” Pat shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant. “And, uh, for you. Just for you.”

Brian sighs, stiffens as Pat takes his hand and gently holds it. 

“You’re being serious,” he softly says, eyes full of a hesitancy and disbelief that weren’t there yesterday.

“‘Course I am, dude. What, you think I’d fuck with you over this? I’m not that much of a dick.”

“You are.”

“I am,” he acquiesces. “But I’m really into you, dude. Just, uh, you were weird about it yesterday. Food poisoning.”

“I still don’t know what happened,” Brian says. He shuffles closer to Pat and looks up at him. “You’re cool with me? After that?”

“Fucking yes, Brian,” Pat groans. He takes Brian’s other hand and holds it just to have something to do with it other than use it to tug Brian up into a kiss. “You’re beautiful and funny and charming and, yeah, even your pickup lines are amazing.”

“I got them off of Google.”

“I still liked them, didn’t I?”

Brian smiles slightly. “You did, huh? I’ve, uh, I’ve got a list in my notes. If you want to hear more.”

“Hit me with your best, Gilbert.”

Brian pulls his hand away and pulls out his phone and taps around for a moment before smiling and going as red as his nail polish. 

“Kiss me if I'm wrong, but dinosaurs still-”

And Pat doesn’t need any more invitation than that.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [asorrywrite](https://asorrywrite.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I do requests when my brain isn't hurting! Hmu sometime!


End file.
